


Champagne and Grenades

by amkatpet



Category: 6 Underground (2019)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Injury, Explicit Language, F/M, Five is more badass than she's given credit for, Five/Amelia's Backstory, Four doesn't care about One's rules, Four is also a peeping Tom, Implied/Referenced Sex, Pretty pleased with this considering I wrote it in a few hours, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23365828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amkatpet/pseuds/amkatpet
Summary: Four and Five go on mission, disguised as a newlywed couple, to get intel on their latest target. But this mission might give them more information about themselves-and their feelings for one another-than either of them intends.
Relationships: Five | Amelia/Four | Billy (6 Underground)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Champagne and Grenades

Five was aware of a throbbing pain in the back of her skull. She moved her head, trying to ease the ache. A moan involuntarily escaped her lips. 

"Five! Thank God!" Four's voice, strangely raspy, hovered over her. "Amelia?" Softer this time, concerned. 

She wanted to open her eyes, but the lids felt so heavy. A cool cloth pressed against her head. Slowly, the pain began to ease. 

Taking a deep breath, Five forced her eyes open. 

She was back on One's plane, lying on the seat. Four-Billy-was sitting with her head in his lap. His boyish face was streaked with sweat and soot. His pale green eyes were rimmed red. But Amelia couldn't imagine him crying. 

"What happened?" she asked wearily. She tried to sit up, but the room started spinning. 

Four gently eased her back down. "Take it easy, Mia. "You've probably got a bad concussion, among other things". 

Five struggled to remember exactly what had happened. "There was an explosion...a bomb?"

"Grenade. We're all lucky to even be alive". 

"I remember...I thought...the rules". 

"Fuck the rules! I couldn't leave my wife behind!" 

***Twenty-Four Hours Earlier****  
"You two ready?" Three asked from the driver's seat. 

"Ready as we'll ever be" Four said. He and Five were in the backseat. Three pulled into the entrance of an elegant Barcelona hotel. 

"Buena Suetre" he said as they got out. 

'Isn't it bad luck to say "good luck"? Five asked. 

"Damn it, yes it is!" Four scowled, but Three was already pulling away. 

"I don't see why we couldn't have used our own names" Four grumbled as they made their way towards the hotel entrance. 

"Too risky" Five replied. She shifted the luggage bag in her hand, secretly carrying their gear, to a more comfortable grip. 

"Why? We're 'dead'. And we're using different surnames, so what's it matter?"

"You know how paranoid One is about names". 

"Fuck 'is rules. Why'd you go with Sophia anyway? Doesn't suit you". 

"What's wrong with it? I like it. And I can fucking too pass as a Sophia!" 

"Nah. You just don't seem like a Sophia. Face it, you're an Amelia. And I'm a Billy". 

"Shhh. Watch it, Benjamin!" 

Four's cheeks went a little pink. "Billy, Benjamin" he muttered "Least mine's close". 

They reached the front doors and stepped into the massive marble lobby. A fountian decorated the center, potted ferns stood in the corners, everything shiny, clean, and expensive. Exactly the kind of place neither of them really belonged in. 

But they--Four and Five, Billy and Amelia--weren't really the ones here. Now, they were Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Smith, a newlywed couple on their honeymoon. 

And they'd have to pretend they loved each other. 

They approached the front desk, where a sour-faced blond woman examined them. Her golden name tag said "Diana". 

"Puedo ayudarlo?"

There was a split second pause, as neither Four nor Five had quite planned their cherade. Five managed to improvise. She tucked her arm into Four's and cuddled against him. 

"Hola" she said, posing her brighest smile. "I'm Mrs. Smith. My husband and I are here for our honeymoon". She turned her beaming smile towards Four at the word "husband". He couldn't help but grin back, if only to hide his laughter. 

Diana tapped at her computer keyboard, her long nails clicking against the keys. "Right, here you are. Benjamin and Sophia Smith, Honeymoon Suite". She glanced at the calandar. "Americans, si? Married on Valentine's Day? How romantic". 

Five forced a smile. Neither of them had even registered the holiday. "Of course! The most romantic day of the year. Right, honey?" 

"Huh?" Four looked at her. "Oh, yeah, real romantic". 

Diana smirked as she handed two key cards to them. It was easy to tell who was running this relationship. "Enjoy your stay. And congragulations". Diana smiled, or rather grimaced, the closest the lemon-faced desk manager was capable of doing. 

"Well, she was cheery" Four muttered as they made they way into the elevators. 

They rode upwards, to the second-to-last top floor of the hotel. Five unlocked the door with a key card and they made their way inside. 

"Whoah!" Four exclaimed. Enormous floor-to-ceiling windows opened to magnificent views of the city. To the right, was a King-size bed layered in white Egyptian cotton sheets and feather pillows. The comforter was decorated in scattered rose petals in the shape of a heart. The rose petals continued onto the soft carpeted floor. Candles and tea lights were scattered around the room. The walls were decorated in warm chocolate stripes. Beyond the bedroom, was a spa-like bathroom, including a marble tub, easily big enough for two. 

Four examined the welcoming tray set out on the dresser next to the flat-screen TV. "Champagne, strawberries, candles, all sorts'a romantic shit". 

"It's a honeymoon suite, dumbass. What'd you expect?" 

"What'do ya say we pop it open?" Four said with a grin, grabbing the champagne bottle. 

Five marched over and snatched it from his hands. "We have a job to do, remember?" 

"After?" Four watched her with a hopeful puppy-dog expression. 

Five hesitated, struggling to not get caught up in those beautiful eyes, the sweet-dimpled smile...She took a breath and decided to give in. "Well...we are on our honeymoon". 

It took only a few hours to set up the equipment and get a good view of their latest target in his swanky penthouse apartment across the street. 

"Done!" Five said triumphantly, throwing down her tools. She wiped her forehead and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. 

"What'dya say we celebrate, then?" Four went for the champagne bottle and opener. 

"Sounds good to me". Five got up and streched her legs. "But I'm going to have quick shower, first". 

"Fine. I might save some for you". 

"You better!" she called over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom. 

Four put the champagne back into the ice bucket to keep it cold until she was done. He heard the water turn on in the shower. Figuring he may as well change too, he looked around for his own bag...and realized it was in the bathroom. 

The same bathroom Amelia was now showering in. 

What the hell. She was in the shower. He could sneak in, grab his bag, and sneak out, no big deal. 

He slowly opened the bathroom door. The sound of the water muffled the noise. Amelia was humming softly as she removed her clothes. 

Billy froze. He thought she'd already gotten in the shower. He knew he ought to turn around, shut the door, and give her a moment's privacy like a gentleman. 

But when the hell had William "Billy" Taylor, a.k.a. Four, ever been a gentleman? 

Instead, he stared. That lacy blue lingerie looked so good against her tanned skin...she glowed like a goddess in the light. Her thick, dark hair fell in curls over her shoulders. 

Breathe, Billy, a little voice said. But the little voice was ignored as all the blood in his body rushed to one specific place. 

She reached up and undid her bra strap, then removed her panties. Her back was to him, and the door, but the mirror was in front of her and gave him a good view of everything. 

Shit, he thought. Mirrors. 

Of course, that was the moment she looked up into the mirror. And screamed. 

"Billy, what the fuck?!" Amelia let off an angry torrent of Spanish at his reflection. 

"Sorry! I'm sorry! Shit!" he shouted. 

"You're still standing there!" 

"You're still naked!" 

"I was going to take a shower!" 

"I was trying to get my bag! I thought you were already in the bloody shower!" 

"Jesus Christ. You couldn't have waited ten fucking minutes for me to be done?" Amelia wrapped her arms around herself awkardly, inching towards the towels folded on the vanity. 

"No good. I've already seen everything". 

"Fuck you". 

"You want me to get naked too? Will that make you feel better?" 

Amelia paused. Then, slowly uncovered herself and looked him in the eye. "Yeah". 

"Wh-what?" 

"Yeah. Yes. Si. Get naked. Take off your clothes". Amelia ordered. 

Billy stared, unaware his mouth had fallen open in shock. He hadn't actually meant it. Not that he had a problem with it...but he hadn't actually expected...

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes." Amelia said firmly. 

Billy nodded. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. 

Amelia was eyeing his sculpted chest now. She was breathing heavily still, perhaps not just from all the shouting. 

Billy undid his belt and removed his pants. 

Amelia's eyes went lower as she examined the rest of him. She smiled in satisfaction. 

It was very, very lucky they were in a honeymoon suite...

**********  
Amelia lay tangled in the bedsheets, their silkiness smooth against her bare skin. She laid her head against Billy's chisled chest and draped an arm over him. He lay on his back, his arms wrapped around her.

"That was pretty fucking amazing" she mummured into his chest. 

She felt a slight rumble as he chuckled. "I aim to please". 

Billy stroked his fingers up and down her arm. Tingling pleasure ran through her. 

"You are so beautiful" he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair. 

Amelia hummed in pleasure, enjoying the warmth and cuddles. It had been a long time, an embrassingly long time since she'd had sex, and even longer since there were cuddles and hair-stroking afterwards. 

She was so comfortable she was nearly asleep when Billy's voice roused her. "Amelia?" 

"Hmm?" 

"If you hadn't...y'know, joined the team, if you weren't a ghost, what'do you think you'd be doing?" 

"Oh. I don't know. Probably the same life as always...working shifts at the hospital, coming home afterwards, and...well, I don't know. I guess I never did have much life when I was alive". 

"But you had to have wanted to do something? Hopes, dreams?" 

She flushed a little. She'd given up on any dreams when she faked her death, maybe even long before that. 

"Sometimes, I had really big dreams...like curing cancer or something. Just making a noticable difference in the world. And sometimes, I just wanted something simpler...marriage, house, kids, y'know...typical American dream". She laughed bitterly. 

"I always imagined if I ever got married, it'd be on a beach. I'd be barefoot and feel the sand under my toes. I'd put flowers in my hair. I'll never get to do that now, though". 

When they all "died", they gained so much freedom, yet still lost so much. This life, this life of vigilance and danger, this was the only life they could have now. This was their normal. 

There would be no wedding on a beach, no home, no children. 

Tears filled her eyes. She reached up to wipe them away. 

"Babe, what's wrong?" Billy held her closer and kissed her hair again. 

"I just was thinking. About everything we gave up". 

"We? What did 'we' give up?" 

"Y'know. When we faked our deaths. We gave our lives, our futures, our dreams". 

Billy snorted. "Where I'm at now is way better than where I was. I didn't give up shit. You have to have something to give it up, and I didn't have a future". 

"Well, I did. I had a good life before...well, good enough". 

"You said you didn't have much of life". 

"Not exactly. But I was comfortable enough". 

"But not happy. Not living your dreams". 

"That's what One said when he found me. Said he knew I wasn't happy. I don't even know why One recruited me; plenty of other doctors out there..." 

"Yeah, but he wanted the best". 

She smiled sadly. "I can patch you up afterwards. But during a mission? I'm not that helpful. Can't fight or shoot a gun. I'm the most useless member on the team". 

"That's not true, Mia! Fuck, we'd all be dead without you!" 

"Maybe...but it's okay. I'm used to not being enough..."

*****One Year Ago*****  
Amelia was exhausted. She'd worked three shifts in a row, with barely any rest, and now she was expected to attend this swanky hospital fundraiser. At least, she had the next forty-eight hours off. 

She sipped her champagne and examined the room around her. A hotel ballroom held the event, decorated in white and navy blue. The floral arrangements on the tables gave off a pleasant scent. Candlelight reflected off the crystal chandeliers. L.A.'s city lights glittered outside the windows. 

Amelia glanced at her watch bracelet. 8:44pm. She wondered if two hours was plenty long enough to stay, then she could make up some excuses, go home, and sleep. 

Her neon-yellow and black dress felt too tight, her matching heels hurt. She wasn't sure she'd put on enough concealer to hide the dark circles under her eyes. 

She drained the last of her champagne and looked around for a refill. Alcohol on an empty stomach and exhausted body was hardly the wisest decision, especially for a doctor, but at the moment, she was too tired to care. 

Another glass later, she was feeling tipsy and in need of the restroom. She slipped away from the main party and went down the carpeted hotel hallway. 

"Dr. Alvarez? A word?" 

Amelia turned to see a man dressed in a bespoke navy suit. His eyes were covered in aviator glasses, despite it being nighttime. 

"Yes? Can I help you?" 

"I'm here to make you an offer". 

Her mind didn't quite register what he meant. His apperance suggested he was wealthy, maybe a philanthrapist here to make donations to the hospital. 

"If you're wanting to meet with the hospital's Director-" 

"I'm here with an offer for you specifically". 

She was curious and wary all at once. "Do I know you?"

"No. But I know a lot about you". 

"Oh, really?" 

"Your name is Dr. Amelia Alvarez Adams, how alliterate. You were born and raised here in L.A. You graduated from UCLA with a degree in Biology, then went to USC for medical school". 

She bristled. "Anyone could find that out with the Internet". 

"Your favorite color is hot pink, you've never had relationship last longer than six months, you're deathly afraid of spiders, you're bilingual, shall I keep going?" 

Amelia felt a know form in her stomach. This man was starting to creep her out. 

The man continued. "By your silence, I'll take it I'm right. And I also know just how unhappy you are". 

"Bullshit". 

"Your mother's name was Maria Alvarez. She immigrated to the U.S. from Mexico, but you have no memory of her because she left when you were three. She worked as a maid for your father before you were born. He and his wife adopted you as their own kid, but you were never good enough. They ended up having your twin half-siblings, and from then on you were always in third place". 

He kept going "I know you've spent your whole life struggling to be worthy of someone's love, without conditions. You want to do some good in the world, make a difference, that's why you became a doctor. And yet you're still not happy. 

But what if I told you, I could help you change all that?" 

Dr. Amelia Alvarez never made it home that night. Her car veered off the road, through a guardrail, and over an oceanside cliff. Her collagues from the fundraiser questioned if she'd been driving drunk. Her body was never recovered. 

A few days later, a funeral was held. An empty mahagony casket placed underground, a marble headstone erected with her name on it. And the ghost of Amelia, now known only as Five, disappeared into the California desert. 

******************  
In the honeymoon suite's king-sized bed, Amelia awoke. The Barcelona sunshine, already bright for early morning, was streaming in through the large windows. The light glinted off the city buildings around them. 

She stretched her arms overhead. In the bed next to her, Billy was sprawled out on his stomach, still asleep and snoring. The champagne bottle, long since emptied last night, lay on top of the bedcovers. 

She smiled to herself, watching him sleep, then slipped into the bathroom to finally get that shower. When she came out fifteen minutes later, Billy was awake. He hadn't bothered to put on any clothes, but was making coffee at the little morning kitchen. 

"Good morning". 

Billy turned around, giving her another good view of the perfect terrain she'd explored last night. "Mornin'". 

She took the cup of coffee he offered her with a quick thanks. They drank their coffee in akward silence. She wasn't to used to the "morning after" and she suspected Billy wasn't either. 

Amelia had had past boyfriends, before her death, where there was no morning after. Barely even a few minutes after. Some boyfriends got up and left as soon as it was done, no post-sex cuddling, no pillow talk, definitely no morning-after coffee. 

She'd told herself she hadn't minded. She'd been so busy through college and medical school and residency there was hardly any time for sex, let alone the couple-y things afterwards. 

But last night...last night, Billy held her. She'd laid her head against his strong chest, felt his heart beating. He'd wrapped his arms around her and pressed soft kisses into her hair. She'd fallen asleep in his embrace. 

It was nice. It was something she could get used to. It was something she knew she shouldn't. 

***********  
"Mr and Mrs. Smith" left the hotel later that morning, after taking advantage of the generous buffet breakfast, under the guise of going sightseeing. Instead, they headed to a little outdoor cafe, where the rest of the team was waiting. 

One was fiddling with his phone. Two and Three were sharing breakfast. Seven looked at Four and Five over the rim of his coffee mug and grinned. 

"Enjoyed that honeymoon, didn't you?" 

"What'er you talkin' about?" Four replied. He sat down and poured his own coffee. 

"It's all over you two" Two said with a smirk. 

"So" asked One. "Which was it?" 

"Which was what?" Four replied, getting annoyed. 

"Fucking or making love? Which did you two do last night?" 

"Not really any of your business" Amelia replied. 

"So, you guys did do something." Seven confirmed. 

Amelia flushed. "Yeah, fine" she said. "We fucked. That's all it was. Fucking". 

Billy looked over at her. "It was?" 

She looked over at him and was shocked to see hurt in his eyes. "Wasn't it?" 

"I dunno. I just thought...never mind. Shit, yeah. Fucking". He got up from the table and walked away. 

Silence hung over the rest of the group for a moment, finally broken by Seven. 

"Don't break that boy's heart, Five. We can't be dealin' with that shit". 

*********  
Back at the hotel, Amelia prepared her computer and cameras. The object of the mission was relatively "simple". Which of course meant it was anything but. 

Their target was a member of a crime organization they were attempting to take down. They'd already taken two other members out in Beijing, now they'd tracked the next here to Barcelona. 

Amelia and Billy would be in the hotel room, using the equipment they'd set up to observe their latest target across the street. Blaine was positioned on another neaby roof to keep cover. One, Camille, and Javier, would enter the apartment complex next door, take out their Target's henchmen, get the intel they needed, then eliminate the Target. 

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. 

Yeah, right. 

Amelia observed the modern penthouse across from them. The Target was there, sitting on a couch, speaking to a few other men. The Target stood up, drained the tumbler glass he was holding, and began to walk out. 

"Shit, he's leaving!" 

Billy stood up. "I'm on it". He dashed out the door before Amelia could stop him. 

The longest ten minutes of Amelia's life passed. There was no one visible in the cameras they'd set up. The penthouse was empty. Their "simple" plan was foiled. 

Billy's voice came over. "I've got the Target spotted. He's getting on a yacht. They're pullin' out of port!" 

"Shit" One groaned. "He's onto us!" 

"I've got eyes on him. Want me to take him out?" Billy asked. 

"No! We need him. We're headed that way!" 

Amelia stood. The rest of the team was headed for the harbor to catch their Target's yacht. There was no point in her staying here in the hotel. 

She slipped out the hotel quickly and quietly, hoping to draw no attention to herself. She wished she had Four's Parkour skills. 

"Five, get in!" 

Amelia looked up to see Two and Three in a black SUV. She hurried into the back seat. 

"Where're the others?" 

"One and Seven went ahead to keep eyes on the Target" Two replied. 

"This whole plan's gone to shit" Three groaned as he manuevered through the narrow streets. "We've got to improvise". 

Two nodded. "Not our forte". 

Amelia glanced behind her. There were headlights close behind them. 

"I think we're being followed". 

"Damnit. Hang out!" Javier shouted. He swerved to the right. Amelia toppled over in the backseat, having failed to put on any seatbelt. 

The SUV's engine roared as they spend down the road. Car horns blared as they cut traffic off and sped down the road running parrallel to the harbor docks. 

Gunshots went off. Five ducked instinctively. 

Two twisted around in her seat and shot off several rounds at the vehicles behind them. She must've hit. One of them swerved into another lane, slammed into another car, and exploded into flames. 

They raced along the road. Amelia peered onto the dark streets, where city lights reflected in the water. She spotted a huge yacht heading out of the port. 

"Is that it?" she shouted. 

"Yeah" Four's voice came over again, in a careful whisper. "I'm on board". 

"Oh, God. Be careful" Amelia moaned. 

"Yeah," One's voice cut in. "Remember what happened last time you were on a yacht? I'm not there to save your pasty ass". 

"Well, get over here then" Four snapped. 

Three slammed the brakes of the SUV, bringing them to a screeching stop. Amelia tumbled forward, nearly slamming her head into the front console. 

"Shit, warn me next time!" 

"No time" Three was getting out of the car and pointed to an speedboat, where One and Seven were already on board. "We gotta get to the yacht". 

The remainder of the team hurried on board. With One at the wheel, they sped off into the dark harbor. 

One killed the engine as they got closer, so they wouldn't be detected. "New plan. Real simple. We go in, grab our Target, force the info we need outta him, blow his brains out, then get back to base". 

"Wasn't that the original plan?" Two asked. 

One ignored her and they made their way on to the yacht. 

Amelia crept quielty, wondering where Four was at, and what exactly she was expected to do. One, Two, and Three went down below, guns drawn, searching for the Target. Seven went up, rifle at the ready. 

Amelia hovered, no gun in her hands, no weapon at all, and felt useless. 

"Four" she whispered. "Where are you?" 

"Downstairs. Dining room. Target's in the study across from it. I can't get in. He's got his henchmen blocking the door". 

"On our way" came One's voice. 

Amelia hurried down the staircase. She had no idea what exactly she would do, or could do, but she didn't want to be apart from the team. 

Gunfire rang out ahead of her. There was shouting, a crunching noise. She broke into a run. 

She burst through a glass door into a massive oval shaped dining room. The moonlight shone through a window onto the glass table in the center. 

On the floor, two men lay dead. There was a hole in a door to the left. She heard voices coming from the room. It seemed the others had found the Target and were interregating him now. 

"Five!" Four appeared, seemily out of nowhere. 

She gasped, a hand fying to her chest, as he startled her. 

"Sorry. What'd you doing here?" 

"I'm part of the team, aren't I? I can't just hang back and twiddle my thumbs". 

"Yeah, well...look out!" 

Amelia felt a hard shove as Billy pushed her out of the way. She fell to the floor. Looking up, she saw several more henchmen had entered the room and were now fighting with Billy. 

Billy fought back, but he was outnumbered. One of the henchmen grabbed him from behind. He squirmmed and twisted but couldn't break free. 

Another of the men pulled out a wicked knife. A twisted grin came onto his face. Billy paled. 

Amelia knew she had to do something before Billy's guts ended up decorated the dining room floor.

"Where should we start first, eh?" The henchman holding the knife asked. "How 'bout the face? He's too pretty looking". 

A handgun lay on the floor, dropped by one of the earlier killed men. Amelia crawled over on hands and knees and grabbed it. With trembling fingers, she aimed the gun at the man holding the knife. 

The knife came towards Billy's face. 

Amelia's finger tightened on the trigger. 

The shot rang in her ears. 

And the man holding the knife fell dead. 

Billy reacted quickly. He knocked his head back into the face of the man holding him. Breaking free of his grasp, Billy flipped the man over and slammed him into the ground. He looked up and grinned at Amelia. 

Relived, she smiled back. 

Then, she saw the grenade. 

A single remaining henchman had tossed it as he dashed out the door. The mere seconds it took for the grenade to fly through the air and land in between them seemed to last forever. Everything seemed slow-motion, like she was watching it unfold on a movie screen, rather than being right in front of it. 

She tried to opened her mouth to shout a warning to Four. But even her own body seemed to be in a time-warp. 

And just as her eyes locked on his, there was a flash of light, brighter and brighter until it was blinding. A roar shook the air, an awful wailing like an oncoming train. 

There was heat, wind, an overwhelming pressure that slapped her whole body down like a tidal wave. 

Something snapped. She tasted blood. 

The world went red, then white. Hot, then cold. 

Then nothing. 

**********  
Four saw Five's smiling face, smiling at him. 

Then, a stunning flash of light blinded him, a hot force of air blasted him off his feet. 

His lungs burned and he tried to gasp in air. He staggered to his feet, shaky. 

Everything was black and red. And silent. Fires were burning, he could feel the heat, yet not hear the crackling of their flames. 

The muffled feeling in his ears began to fade, there was a -pop-then chaos. 

Someone was screaming, burning wood...and flesh. 

Four blinked. His head swam. There was something...something he needed to do....his mind wouldn't work...

Amelia! 

Billy's heart leapt in his chest as he realized his companion was no where to be seen among the remains of the explosion. "Five?!" 

Silence...save for Four's blood pounding in his ears as he manuvered through the rubble. 

He had to find her. Fuck the rules. He wouldn't leave her behind. 

"Five? Where are you? Amelia? Baby, talk to me". His voice rose as panic engulfed him. Why wasn't she answering him? She couldn't be...

"Five, Amelia?!" he shouted until his vocie was hoarse. 

Silence was the only response. 

Four ran, his eyes desperately searching for a sign of her. He saw only the remains of the ship, smoke and flames. In the distance, sirens were wailing. 

"Amelia!" he screamed. He inhaled the smoke, burnt his throat, but he didn't care. His eyes were watering, burning, aching from peering through the smoky air, but what did it matter? 

Only Amelia mattered to him at the moment. Nothing else. Not the mission, Not his own life. Just her. 

And he spotted it in the water below: an arm extended from the sleeve of the bright, flowery blouse Five had been wearing...

"No! No, no, no, no!" Somehow, his legs were working, carrying him forward. 

Without thinking, he leapt from the yacht, diving into the water below. He swam forward in quick stokes to reach the slowly sinking body of Five. Wrapping an arm around her, he kicked forward until they reached the surface. 

He swam towards the harbor and pulled Amelia onto the sand. 

"Amelia" he gasped. 

She lay limp in his arms, sprawled like a rag doll tossed carelessly away by an ungrateful child. Her eyes were closed, her body wet and cold. Blood covered her face. 

Four gaped at the sight of her limp body, his mind gone fuzzy. 

"Five" he whispered. "Five, please, wake up!" 

"Four!" One's voice was in his ear. "What's going on? Four? Five? C'mon, somebody answer me!" 

"We're...we're here!" Four choked out. 

"Where the fuck is here?" 

"The beach...an explosion. She...Am-Five...she's..." 

"Oh, shit, shit, shit!" One's voice was still crackling in his earpiece. "We need to get out of the here! The ship's going down!" 

"Hurry" Four whispered. "Don't...don't go back to where the yacht was docked. Cops. We're further down, along the beach". 

"And Five? She okay?" 

"I...I don't know. She's here, but...she's not waking up...I don't know!" A lump built in his throat, aching far more than any inhaled smoke. 

Billy tilted his ear towards Amelia's chest and listened. Her heart was still beating, thank God, but faint. Her pulse weak, her breathing shallow. 

"Amelia" Billy's voice cracked. "Hang on, just...just don't leave me". 

Billy huddled over her limp body, praying she kept breathing, and waited for the rest of the team to find them. He wasn't leaving her. 

***The Present***  
Amelia listened as Billy finished explaining how the rest of the team found them and they made it away from the city. 

"Thank you, Billy. You saved my life". 

"Yeah, well...you saved mine too. I didn't think you could shoot". 

"I didn't think so either, but...I thought he was going to kill you..." Tears blurred her vision. She hastily wiped them away. 

This didn't escape Billy's notice. "You cared? 'Bout me?" 

"Of course I care, dummy! I love you!" The words were out before she had time to think about what she was saying. 

Billy stared, the same shocked, slack-jawed expression when she ordered him to remove his clothes last night. 

"You love me? Like, love, love me?" 

Amelia nodded. "Yeah, I do" 

"But...you said. You said it was just fucking. Not making love". 

"I know, I was just trying to get them off our backs. And I didn't want One to think..." 

"What, that we're attached? That we care about each other? Too damn bad. You love me. And you know what? I love you, too". 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, when that grenade went off...I couldn't find you. That was all that mattered to me then. And when I did and you weren't waking up...I was scared shitless. I really thought I'd lost you. And what happened between us in the hotel...that was making love to me". 

"Me too" Amelia whispered. 

Billy leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, a soft, sweet kiss. 

"We may not be able to have a wedding on the beach, or a house, or kids...but I can love you. I can promise you that as long as I'm around, I can love you. And I wanna keep making love to you...if you want". 

"Yes" Amelia initated the next kiss. 

She snuggled into Billy's arms and let sleep overtake her. For the first time in her life, she was certain she was wanted, she was loved, she was good enough.


End file.
